


Puppet Master's Toy

by o0JayWolf0o



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Beta Timeline (Homestuck), Child Abuse, Kinda, Other, Pre-Sburb/Sgrub, Puppeteer, Puppets, Sadstuck, bro's name is dirk you COWARDS, ennui
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12198906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0JayWolf0o/pseuds/o0JayWolf0o
Summary: Dave's Bro used to be a lot different from how he is now - abusive, terrorizing, abrasive. Before he met Dave, before he met Lil Cal, he used to have something that now seems foreign to him - control. Now, though, as he watches his 'son' flinch before his stare, he feels nothing at all.





	Puppet Master's Toy

**Author's Note:**

> oh shit   
>  i didnt proofread this

Dirk.

Well, he was something, for sure.

He found a child in the crater of a meteor where his favorite record store had once stood. He’d taken a tiny replica of his own shades and taken the child into custody. He had reason to: Lil Cal had commanded him to. He knew what happened when attempting to disregard or ignore the puppet, so he, himself, had become the puppet. All along, ‘Lil Cal had been telling him to do subtle things: buy that, do this, put this here. In the end, it all seemed normal and okay.

When the puppet told him to start fighting with Dave, he had shrugged and went along with it. It was in his nature to fight, so, of course, he was going to fight. When it told him to not patch up his small wounds, he understood. When it told him to stop helping him at all, he knew something was wrong.

Dirk started to disobey the puppet. He would hide it in a closet and feed Dave a little bit more, only slightly hurt by how the kid would flinch when he settled his gaze on him. When Dirk spoke, Dave would lock up for a few seconds before replying in a completely monotone and emotionless voice.

After a week of being ‘nicer’ to Dave, he gave in. Every day since then, Lil Cal had appeared in strange places. The counter, the cupboards, under the couch, on the T.V. He had had enough of it and had tossed it out the window, watching it fall until he could no longer see it. When he’d turned around, it’d been dangling in his face. He’d tensed up and had a panic attack for the first time in many, many years. He was glad Dave probably didn’t hear him.

The look in the puppet’s eyes drew him in until he seemed to be watching through the eyes of another. He became more stoic and emotionless to the point he’d only talk to Dave once every week (or less). He stopped buying food and only got enough to keep Dave just barely alive, hiding it in dumb places. Once, Dave had asked for ‘cold, hard cash’ and then strifed with Dirk immediately after. When he would check the house for extra change, he’d find a block of ice with a wad of 20 in it. Cold hard cash.

Dave learned how to treat his own wounds eventually. It hurt Dirk to know it’d come to this. Dave was terrified of him and even more so of Lil Cal. When he appeared, Dave seemed to shake vigorously, trying his hardest to suppress it.

It hurt Dirk at first. Slowly, though, over the course of several years, he grew numb to it. It was normal to strife his son(?). It was normal to starve Dave. It was normal to have him shake so much he couldn’t even breathe properly.

It was a blistering hot day in Texas when he realized it.

Dirk was pouring himself a cup of OJ and silently shuffling over to the couch. Lil Cal was waiting for him as he plunged onto the soft cushion, taking a long drag from his drink and downing it in one gulp. He preferred the kind of orange juice with the pulp because it tasted better. When he set his cup on the ground and took his controller in his hands, he relaxed, kicking back on the couch and setting up a shitty Skate game. 

Dave was 13 now, and, based on the almost silent (you’d have to have an extremely quiet house and far-ranged hearing like Dirk did to hear it) clacking of keyboard strokes, he was talking to one of his friends. Dirk knew about SBURB - he’d rated it on GameBro, after all. He had a copy on the couch and Dave had his own. The day prior, Dave had approached him nervously.

_ “Hey, Bro?” Dave’s meek voice spoke up. Dirk didn’t respond or show that he’d heard. Dave knew he did. He always did. “You wanna play this game tomorrow? I hear it’s pretty shitty on GameBro, but, uh,” he stuttered. That’d be another day without food, and Dave knew it. “I thought it’d be fun.” _

_ Dirk stayed quiet for a moment. Finally, he responded. “Sure. I’ll get us two copies.” _

Dave’s door had very, very quietly opened. The only way someone’d be able to notice would be the steady rumble of a quiet fan in Dave’s room filtering out into the hallway. Immediately, Dirk had flash stepped to the ceiling, listening intently to Dave.

He had left a note on the fridge.   
‘bro.  
roof. now.  
bring cal.   
where doing it man  
where MAKING THIS HAPEN'  
He waited on the roof, poised with his sword. He knew when Dave would arrive. Sweat bead in the crick of his neck, his hair damp. His armpits stank as time passed and, just as Dave scrambled up the stairs, his shirt began to cling to his built frame.

Strife time.

It was child’s play, honestly. Dave was  _ easy  _ to beat. Dirk had thought over the years he might get a  _ little _ bit better, but in all sincerity, he could knock the kid down with a flicker of glitter if he so pleased. 

When the strife was over, Dirk felt strange. Different. Like something big was going to happen. Oh, but today was April 14, the day Dave and he would play SBURB. Nothing like a good old video game to loosen the kid up so Dirk could jump him again.

And he.. felt stranger still. He felt more  _ real _ \- like he could control himself without Lil Cal monitoring his every breath and twitch. Then it hit him. Lil Cal hadn’t influenced him at all lately. In fact, the only time this week he’d even seen the puppet, Dave had brought it up to the roof - and that was today. 

He’d become so numb to everything that he’d become the emboidenment of his most feared thing. He admit it: he was petrified of the plush. The fact that he’d become the marionette white Cal was the puppeteer had him collapse to his knees, staring at his hands with unadulterated horror. He’d hated treating Dave badly, had hated Cal, but now he was just as bad as the thing.

He felt unsullied loathing toward himself. Oh, but he couldn’t turn back now, could he? He would rather fucking not have Cal forcing him to stare into his eyes for hours on end, feeding him information and leeching sentience from his brain.

Dirk calmed himself instantaneously as the sodden footsteps of Dave beat down the stairs.  _ Clank. Clank. Clank. Cl-  _ A stutter. Then -  _ thump, thump, clunk, beat. _ Dave fell down the stairs, tumbling by the sounds of it. He stopped eventually and dragged himself up the stairs, heavily breathing.

The familiar material of cloth forced itself into Dirk’s calloused hands. ‘ _ It’s today, Dirk!’ _ something whispered into his brain. Cal. He reeled back and threw the puppet to the wall, seething with anger and dread. Something malicious was in that tone, and oh, dear, he didn’t want to know what it was. 

Dirk felt bad. He wanted to take back what he did. He could not, though. That thought scared him. What scared him more was how okay he was with this. In the end, though, he let himself shut down and do as Cal pleased.

Everything was easier when you were under someone else’s control.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos n comments r good and i am a fan of them   
>  [ tumblr ](https://o0jaywolf0o.tumblr.com)


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